


January 24th

by RemyCampbell



Category: Supernatural
Genre: DeanDeservesBetter, Gen, HappyBirthdayDean, LonelyDean, SadDean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-09 05:48:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13474968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RemyCampbell/pseuds/RemyCampbell
Summary: A reflection on the SPN birthdays of January 24th.





	1. Chapter 1

Hello, all! I set up this account last summer, but have not yet posted anything. Today I am going to post my first piece. A very short offering for Dean Winchester in honor of his birthday.

I hope you all enjoy it, and I hope you will enjoy journeying with me on this and other stories that I will be sharing here. 

Your humble servant,  
~Remy Campbell  
*****************************

Jessica Moore began dating Sam Winchester in October. He quickly proved to be a thoughtful partner, planning dates that she would enjoy and finding little ways to make her feel special. But when her birthday rolled around in January, she was surprised to find him less than enthusiastic. Oh, he was still planning something exciting- dinner at her favourite restaurant and a beautiful bracelet that she always stopped to stare at when she walked past the store window, though she wasn’t supposed to know yet what he was going to do- but it was somehow lacking in his usual excitement. The boyish glitter in his eyes that made her feel so warm was conspicuously absent.

Instead, he had that strange faraway look that sometimes consumed him in short moments when he thought she wasn’t paying attention. Jessica had first noticed it when she asked Sam about his family’s holiday traditions. He had forced a smile over it a moment later and told a story about his big brother Dean’s insatiable love of pie. After that, Jessica made a point to notice what triggered that reaction in her boyfriend. Two boys several years apart playing together in the snow. A father scolding his son. A group of teenagers looking in the window of a hunting store, lamenting that they were too young to purchase weapons. Jessica wasn’t sure why her birthday would trigger a similar response, but she knew that even a gentle attempt to broach the topic would do nothing more than upset her boyfriend and push him away.

In the time that Sam and Jessica were together before her untimely death, she learned bits and pieces of information about Sam’s childhood. The incidents that triggered him made more sense and he had grown more comfortable discussing those difficult feelings with her. Still, neither of them ever acknowledged that he was consistently upset in the week leading up to her birthday. At first, Jessica wondered if it was a problem surrounding birthdays in general. But Sam had seemed genuinely excited by his own birthday celebration, insisting it was better than any of his childhood birthdays. In the same way, he often put effort into ensuring their friends had excellent birthday celebrations. He had explained to Jessica that there hadn’t been many opportunities for feel good events in his past, and he loved being able to expend effort into giving a friend a positive experience.

It was painfully obvious to Jessica that this excitement didn’t extend to her annual party on January 24th. Still, she pretended that she didn’t notice. Drawing attention to it would only make Sam feel guilty. He would tell her in time. He had already opened up to her so much, she reminded herself. It didn’t matter that whatever caused Sam so much pain on her birthday was still too raw for him to talk about; they had their whole lives ahead of them to help him heal.

=================================================

Dean hadn’t really expected Sam to call him on his birthday the year he went to college. When Sam left, he had made it all too painfully clear that he was parting ways with the Winchester family. Still, he would be lying if he said that he hadn’t kept the ringer of his cell phone turned up to the highest volume all day or used the crappy computer in the dimly lit lobby of their shady motel to check his eMail before he finally went to sleep at 1am on January 25th.

John Winchester had no time to worry about meaningless things like birthdays. If he was around for Sammy’s birthday, he tried to find time to take them to dinner, but he made no effort to plan around it. Dean’s birthday was ignored even more completely.

As with so many other things, Dean picked up the slack where his father fell short. He did all that he could to try to make Sam’s birthday special, even if it was as small as letting the younger boy have full control of the television remote or sticking a match in a Hostess cupcake. When Sam was old enough to recognize that his brother had a birthday of his own and that it passed without proper recognition, he did what he could to reciprocate the effort that Dean put in for him.

Sam knew that January 24th without his presence would be the same as the 23rd and the 25th. Still, he maintained his silence. Dean hated how deeply it hurt. It hurt more than Sam’s absence at Christmas. It hurt as much as his announcement that he was going to college and leaving John and Dean behind.

It hurt just as badly the year after that and the one after that, though by then, Dean had given up hope.

==========================================================

On the first January 24th after Sam had left college and rejoined the Winchester family business, Dean expected that there would be some recognition of his birthday. He was far from self-centered and didn’t expect his brother to throw any sort of an extravagant celebration. The most he would possibly dream of would be for the two of them to take the night off from working a case and to enjoy a few drinks at a pool hall or a strip club. Even that was more than he was expecting.

But in the week leading up to the 24th, Sam seemed consumed with a determination to find a new job for them, something especially challenging. And find it he had.

The brothers staggered back to their motel room in the final hour of Dean’s birthday. They were both battered and sore and exhausted from the battle with an especially vindictive witch. Of course it was a witch- Dean hated witches. He let Sam use the shower first and poured himself a drink while trying to determine what exactly had made his younger brother so irritable over the past several days. 

When they were both showered and lying in their creaky, uncomfortable beds, lights off and weapons strategically placed within reach, Sam broke the silence with a soft, “Hey Dean?”

“What’s up, Sammy?”

“Today was your birthday.”

Dean wasn’t sure how to respond to that declaration, so he remained silent.

“Sorry it was kind of a crappy day.”

“It’s no big deal.” He shrugged before remembering that it was too dark for Sam to see him. “Nothing special about getting old.”

“We should get a drink or something later in the week,” Sam offered. There was something in his tone that Dean couldn’t quite place. Had Sam genuinely forgotten the date and was now feeling guilty? No, that wasn’t it. For all Sam complained about Dean hiding his feelings, he was just as closed off.

“Yeah, that sounds great. And maybe next year we can skip the witches, okay?”

Dean knew they wouldn’t be going for that drink.

========================================================

With each passing year, Dean became more sure that his birthday would never again be properly acknowledged. He didn’t analyze Sam’s behavior, didn’t try to find a reason for this change. He’d failed his little brother so many times, in so many ways. Why on earth would Sam want to throw him any sort of a celebration?

Still, it hurt. Especially the years when Sam went out on his own and left Dean in a dirty motel room alone, one year even coming back drunk at 2am.

Sam was everything to Dean, and all the elder Winchester wanted was for their relationship to go back to the warm partnership that they had shared before Sam left for school. As undeserving as he knew he was, he didn’t think a fun night out with his brother on his special day was too selfish of a birthday wish. But Dean pushed his disappointment aside, made sure there was aspirin and a greasy breakfast available for Sam when he woke up the next morning, and prepared for the next hunt.

It was just a day, he told himself. January 24th was no different than any other. Even though a young Sam had tried to perform a reciprocation of the festivities that Dean had planned for him, it was just a day.

January 24th hadn’t been anything truly meaningful to Dean Winchester since he was four years old.

*************************  
*Ugly cries for Dean.* Sorry if this is a little rushed. It’s 11:50pm and I am determined to post this on the 24th. Happy birthday, Dean. I hope Castiel throws you amazing parties.


	2. Happy Birthday, Dean Winchester

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new chapter with another year, because Dean deserves a happy birthday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One year ago, I posted this story for Dean Winchester’s birthday. A comment was left saying how sad it was, and couldn’t Cas please fix this for Dean? I said check back next year.
> 
> So here you have it, Dean Riordain. The happier birthday fic. Hope you like it!!
> 
> Also, I imagine that this is set in an AU Season 8, post-Purgatory, when Castiel says he wants to be the boys’ third wheel, but without the Naomi situation

The case had been awful. It wasn’t physically taxing or particularly dangerous, certainly nowhere near the level of difficulty that so many of their jobs were. But it was absolutely dreadful.

When they had finished and gone back to their motel room, Dean poured himself an excessively large drink and flopped onto one of the beds with his boots still on. Castiel flitted off to wherever he went when he wasn’t with the Winchesters. Sam went for a run.

Castiel was sitting on the curb outside the motel when Sam got back, staring at nothing with his head slightly cocked to the side, as he often did when he was thinking. After debating for several seconds, Sam sat down beside him.

Despite being infinitely old, Castiel often seemed childlike to Sam, stumbling over even simple interactions and unable to comprehend the emotions of both others and himself. The day’s events had rattled even Sam, who prided himself on his ability to process emotions and then move past them to the next job.

A vengeful spirit at a child’s birthday party. Balloons randomly bursting, cakes falling to the floor. It would have been almost funny if not for the part where a child apparently tripped over nothing and broke his ankle. The disappointed mother had posted about the disastrous party on social media, which had generated a hashtag #PartyFails. When the mom posted several days later that the family dinner celebration on the child’s actual birthday had gone just as badly, Castiel (who apparently had learned Twitter from Meg? Sam still had a lot of unanswered questions about that) suggested they go check and see whether it was all just very bad luck.

Sam wished that it had been.

The previous fall, the birthday girl and her best friend had been in a terrible accident on their way home from the local playground. The friend hadn’t survived. Fast forward several months and the spirit of an angry, frightened, confused 8-year-old was wreaking havoc at a sunny summer birthday party as he failed to understand why he wasn’t allowed to play with his best friend anymore, and why she was allowed to have parties and grow up when he couldn’t do it all with her.

Sometimes life was just unfair. Sam knew that that was one of the hardest things for Castiel to understand. He’d always believed in a higher plan, in a reason for why he did the things he did, why circumstances unfolded in a certain way. The first time he’d discussed this with the brothers, Dean had answered, with all his typical lack of finesse. “Shit happens, dude. That’s just the way it is. It sucks but you can’t get stuck on it, because then you ain’t ever gonna get anything done.” Castiel hadn’t said anything more at the time, but Sam knew that he refused to accept that as an answer.

And so Sam sat on a mud spattered curb beside an Angel of the Lord, preparing to have a thoroughly agonizing conversation about lives that were pointlessly cut short. He opened with a, “You wanna talk about it?” hesitant even though he knew the question would be met with much more openness than when he asked it of his brother.

“It’s an important part of your human culture. Birthday celebrations. They hold great symbolic meaning for you.”

“Um... yeah,” Sam replied, utterly thrown. Castiel’s mind processed things in ways Sam had never been able to decipher. “I mean...” he cast his mind around, searching for a way to explain the concept. “Okay, so. I get that it’s totally different because he’s the son of God and all but- Christmas is kind of just a big birthday party for Jesus, right?” Castiel’s head tilted even further to the side, a clear sign that he was considering Sam’s words. “People are happy that Jesus came. His presence was hugely important to the world, so we celebrate on the anniversary of when he first got here.”

“That isn’t the case, Sam. His birth was actually nowhere near December 25th. Early Christians usurped existing Pagan holidays for their celebration in order to make their new traditions more palatable.”

Sam fought the urge to roll his eyes, groan in frustration, or just walk away and let Dean handle this, since he had always been more fluent in Castiel. “Yeah I know that, Cas, but it’s still the same concept. Most people don’t know that it’s technically the wrong day anyway. Just, think about the idea behind it. It’s because people are glad Jesus was here. And again, I know it’s not a perfect analogy, but it’s the same for regular birthdays. You celebrate a person because you’re glad they’re here.”

Castiel was silent for a long moment before once again taking the conversation in a wildly different direction than what Sam had anticipated. “You and Dean have such a deep connection with each other, and I know you are both beyond grateful for the others’ presence on Earth. But I don’t recall either of you celebrating birthdays the way others do.”

Sam sighed. Through rebuilding Dean after raising him from Hell, Castiel knew everything there was to know about the older Winchester. But there were still many topics that never came up in conversation. The myriad shortcomings of their childhoods was definitely high up on that list. “Birthdays were never really a big thing in our family. We were always on the road or on a hunt, and even if we were settled down, resources for celebrations were pretty scarce.”

“I once saw Dean stick a candle in your takeout burger and give you a bottle of whiskey wrapped in tin foil,” Castiel stated.

Stated. Calmly. Without judgement. Without even a question in his voice. His tone was perfectly neutral.

The guilt struck Sam like a physical blow and Sam couldn’t tell whether or not Castiel had even intended it.

“Yeah, Dean... he tries, you know? And I know I could be better about giving back with that, but... it’s January 24th. That’s just a really hard day for me.”

Castiel nodded, though Sam was sure he had no idea what he was talking about. How would Cas know anything about Jessica? Sam never talked about her, and he certainly never told Dean about their shared birthday.

They sat on the curb in silence for several more minutes, during which Sam felt increasingly uncomfortable and Castiel continued to stare out at nothing, once again lost in thought.

Eventually, Sam went inside to take a shower, unsure of whether or not he wished that Cas had taken his questions to Dean instead.

========================================================

On January 20th, Castiel declared that he had found a case somewhere in Northern California. The nest of vampires was remarkably well organized, but the case was easy by Winchester standards, so an hour after sunrise on the morning of the 24th, they were done.

“We got a new place to go, or are we headed back to the bunker?” Dean asked as he parked in front of their latest motel.

Sam opened his mouth to say that the bunker sounded fine to him, but Castiel interrupted him. “Actually, Dean, I think we’re going to be here for one more night. Sam has something to do while he’s in this area. Who was it you said you called yesterday, Sam? A friend from Stanford?”

There were moments when Sam felt that he didn’t give Castiel nearly enough credit. Moments when he was sure that Castiel grasped more of the subtleties of human interactions in general and the dynamics between the Winchester brothers than he let on. No such moment had been more clear than this.

Sam cleared his throat to give himself a moment to collect his thoughts. “Um, yeah. Yeah he was a good friend at school and he lives here with his family.”

“You looking up old friends now, Sammy? That’s pretty dangerous.”

“No he actually sort of knows what we do. He’s not a hunter or anything but his sister had a problem with a werewolf a while back. Apparently one of Ellen’s friends helped her out?” None of this was making any sense. Sam prayed that Dean didn’t examine his story too closely. “So anyway, yeah. He doesn’t buy the whole America’s Most Wanted stuff that was on the news. I figured while I was in the area I’d swing by and say hello. It’s like an hour from here, though. Do you mind if I take the car?”

Predictably, Dean launched into his “You damn well better take care of Baby” speech, ignoring the plot holes in Sam’s story. He then retreated into their motel room, citing the multiple stakeouts of the past several days and declaring that he was going to use the day off to catch up on sleep.

Once Sam and Castiel were alone, an awkward silence fell. How could Sam thank someone for something he couldn’t put into words- something he didn’t even know anyone knew about.

“I looked up why the date had a negative connotation for you,” Cas declared after a long moment. “It had to be something that mattered to you and not to Dean, so it wasn’t that difficult. Her family brought her remains home to be interred in the family plot.”

Sam nodded. “I’ve only been to visit once. Right after it happened. Thank you, Cas.”

“Of course, Sam.”

“Are you going to stay here with Dean?”

“Yes. I’ve never celebrated a human birthday before, but I think I can manage.”

Sam smiled. No matter how hilariously inept Castiel’s plans were, he was sure that Dean would love it.

========================================================

“Dean.”

“Wassamatter?” Dean asked, pulling a knife from under his pillow and scanning the motel room while still blinking sleep from his eyes.

“It’s nearly one in the afternoon. You have to wake up, Dean.”

“Cas? Sammy ain’t back already, is he? Why do I gotta get up?”

Castiel chuckled and pulled open the window shades. Dean muttered several colorful statements under his breath, then stopped suddenly when he actually looked at the brightened room. Crepe paper hung from the ceiling and was draped over the furniture. Several balloons were taped in the corner. An array of car magazines lay on the nightstand.

“Cas, what is all this?”

“It’s your birthday,” Castiel stated, his tone colored with something resembling anxiety and excitement, which Dean had never heard from him before.

“My- Did Sammy put you up to this?”

“No,” Castiel made sure to hide the flash of disappointment he felt at Dean’s words. More than anything, he wished that his efforts would be enough to give Dean a good day, even without Sam’s presence. “I’ve wanted to do this since that case this summer, the haunting at the little girl’s birthday party.”

“That case was messed up,” Dean mumbled darkly. “But what made you want to throw me a freaking party because of it?”

“Because humans seem to place so much value on these annual celebrations, but you never have one for your birthday. I asked Sam about birthdays and he said the point is about celebrating that a person is here with you. I’m glad to know you, Dean.”

“People don’t say things like that, man,” Dean laughed softly, desperately trying to deflect from how much those words meant to him. But Castiel was staring at him, head to the side, clearly trying to figure out if he’d said something wrong, and Dean couldn’t allow that. “But, you know, I’m pretty damn glad to know you too.”

It occurred to Dean that Castiel’s brilliant smile at his words might be the best birthday present he’d ever received.

Once they’d gotten their chick flick moment out of the way, Castiel hurried Dean into a cab, which drove them to the engineering building of the local university.

(Dean had no idea where Cas had gotten a wad of cash and decided that he wasn’t going to ask.)

The school had an attached exhibit hall where they had a collection of both classic cars and new innovations in automotive technology. The pair spent hours walking through the building, Dean expounding on complex mechanical concepts with bright eyes and a broad grin. It occurred to Castiel that had Dean’s life worked out very differently, he would have been an excellent mechanic, or perhaps an inventor of an entirely new type of car.

When they were finished at the school, Castiel directed Dean to a local diner that the college students had voted the Best Burger in Town. Dean agreed with their assessment.

Before calling a taxi to take them back to the motel, Castiel told Dean they had one more stop to make. Dean followed the Angel who had become his best friend down the main street of the sleepy college town until they stopped in front of yet another diner.

“The previous restaurant was known for its burgers,” Castiel explained, his tone far too serious for a discussion about dinner. Dean loved it. Though he would, of course, never say it out loud, he found Castiel’s intensity endearing. “But Bingham’s is renowned for its pies. I thought we could get a few different slices to go and take them back to the motel. The television there will allow us to use Sam’s login for that streaming service, so we can watch whatever you like. Perhaps you could educate me on another one of those key cultural references you say I’m always missing.”

When they got back to the motel with a truly absurd amount of pie in a large paper bag, Dean scanned the parking lot for his car. “Guess Sammy’s not back yet,” he muttered as he unlocked the door to their room. He winced as he heard how completely he had failed at keeping the bitterness out of his voice. Castiel’s slightly deflated posture showed that Dean’s disappointment had been audible to him as well.

Dean sighed. Cas had clearly tried so hard to give him a great day, and he was more grateful than he could ever put into words. But Sam’s attitude surrounding Dean’s birthday was more than a little hurtful. This year, Cas had put in all the work. All Sammy had had to do was show up and eat pie. But he’d rather go visit some dude Dean had never even heard of.

Talking about things was never something Dean was particularly good at, but he refused to let his hurt interfere with the day that Castiel had planned for him. Sam would suggest talking it out and moving on. Maybe it was worth a try.

“Hey Cas?” Castiel looked up from where he was arranging the slices of pie on the room’s small table. “Do you know why Sammy drove off today? Why he won’t acknowledge my birthday?”

“I do, Dean. But it’s not my place to tell. You should ask Sam.”

“What did I do? I don’t think he’s pissed at me for anything. And it’s been years. Even if I did something that annoyed him now, have I pissed him off every damn year?”

“Of course not, Dean.” Castiel crossed the room and sat down on the edge of the bed where Dean was sitting. “It has nothing to do with you, and Sam certainly isn’t angry at you.”

“How is it not about me? It’s my damn birthday.”

“Do you honestly think that you’re the only person who was born on January twenty fourth?” And Castiel knew that Dean was clever, knew that Dean would be able to figure out what he meant, but he hadn’t directly said it, so perhaps Sam wouldn’t be quite as angry.

Dean was silent for a long moment, connecting Castiel’s words with memories of Sam in years past.

“Fuck.”

Castiel said nothing, allowing Dean the space to process the tragic irony.

“Jessica?”

Castiel nodded.

Dean was on his phone before Castiel could react, though he wasn’t sure if he would have tried to stop him even if he’d had the opportunity.

“Hey Sammy. - - Yeah, Cas and I have had a really good day. Listen, Sam, I... I figured it out. Or Cas got me to take my blinders off or... Anyway. Is this where she’s from? - - - And you’re still at the cemetery? - - - Come back, Sammy. She wouldn’t want you to sit in the damn grass all night. - - - No, of course we want you back. - - - I don’t care if you’re in a crappy mood. Dude, there’s pie. - - - Yes, Cas took me to get pie. - - - Yeah, he did awesome planning a party for me. - - - Sammy, I get it. You should’ve told me years ago, man. We could’ve come out here before. - - - Look, I gotta go educate Cas on some cultural references while we eat pie. You finish up what you need to do and then come back. But the longer you take, the less pie there’s gonna be. - - - And don’t hurt my car!”

“I take it that went well?” Castiel asked once Dean hung up.

“Yeah. I feel awful for him, of course, but... I guess it feels good knowing I didn’t do anything wrong, you know?”

“Of course you didn’t, Dean. You’re an excellent brother to Sam.”

“Yeah, whatever. I try, you know? Okay!” Dean turned toward the television to hide his blush. “Where are we going to start giving you some culture?”

Despite Dean’s certainty that Sam would tease whenever he finally arrived back at the motel, they ended up watching classic episodes of Scooby Doo. If called out on it, Dean would have blamed the sugar crash after the pie, or the nostalgia of old cartoons, or even the emotional catharsis of his conversation with Sam, but somehow he had ended up sprawled across the lumpy mattress with his head leaning on Castiel’s shoulder, with Castiel’s arm around him.

In the hazy drifting place where his mind had gone, Dean imagined that the relationship between them was even closer than it was in reality. Castiel himself had described their connection as a “profound bond”. But what did that mean to him? Dean was sure it was different than what he himself thought of it. And yet there were moments. Everything Castiel had done for him today. So many times in Purgatory. Interactions from years ago that had never left Dean’s mind. What if they were physically close like this on a regular basis, not just at the end of a day that was far from their ordinary routine? What if they-”

“Dean?” Castiel’s voice pulled Dean from his musings, but he didn’t move from his position tucked against the Angel’s side.

“Yeah, Cas?”

“Should we start the next episode, or did you want to watch something else?”

“Are you enjoying this? I’m honestly half asleep, dude, so you can put on whatever.”

Castiel pressed pause before the next episode began. “I do find it entertaining, Dean, but if you’re tired, we can just resume another time.”

“No, I’m game for another. Listen, though, Cas, before you press play again. I just... I really want to thank you for today. I think it’s the best birthday I ever had- a good friend, burgers, pie, classic cartoons- and being able to set something right with Sammy felt pretty great too. So, thanks, man.”

“Of course, Dean. I’m infinitely grateful for your existence on Earth, and I’m happy for the opportunity to celebrate it.”

Looking up was a terrible mistake. Castiel was right there and his perfect blue eyes were concentrated directly on Dean, and his expression was so open and content, like he wanted nothing more in time and space than to be right there with Dean Winchester on his birthday. And Dean was too comfortable and too sleepy and looking up was an absolutely terrible mistake.

Dean stretched up and placed a gentle kiss on Castiel’s lips.

Immediately, he felt reality crash down on top of him like a bucket of ice water. “Shit, Cas, I’m so sorry. Fuck, I- Dammit. Cas, I didn’t mean that.”

When he dared to look up, Castiel’s face, so peaceful just a moment before, was marred with an expression of hurt and betrayal. Dean felt like the worst person in the world. Then, Castiel asked, his voice betraying pain Dean had never before heard from him, “You didn’t mean it?”

“No, Cas, it was stupid of me. I’m sorry. Just forget it. Shit, man, I’m so sorry. I swear I won’t ever do that again.”

And at that, Castiel physically flinched. “I know, Dean. I know you could never feel that for me. It’s alright, I’ve accepted it.”

The response made so little sense that it pulled Dean slightly from his panic. “Wait, could never feel what?”

“Attraction. Romance. The sort of connection that humans prize above all others and that I never understood until-”

“Until what, Cas?” Dean’s heart was pounding in his ears. He had to have fallen asleep. Castiel couldn’t possibly be sitting here saying what Dean thought he was.

“Until I saw you in Hell. I didn’t understand it at first, Dean. There aren’t such experiences in Heaven, and I couldn’t put the words to it. But it’s always been you. Perhaps from the moment I was created.”

“And why can’t I feel the same?”

“Because I’m always doing the wrong thing, always making bigger problems by trying to fix things. I’ve been on Earth for years and I still struggle to understand how humans interact. You don’t even know what my true form looks like, and the form I’m wearing is male, which I know is not your preference. I never fit in in Heaven and I don’t fit in here either. And you could never feel anything towards me like what I feel for you.”

“Cas, I-” Well, this was just going to be a day of very honest conversations with the people closest to him. But the conversation with Sam had gone so well. Perhaps if he wished really hard, his birthday luck wouldn’t run out just yet. “If you don’t think me and Sammy screw things up all the time when we’re trying to fix stuff, you haven’t been paying attention, man. And yeah, you’re awkward. There’s a whole lot of people in this world who are awkward who don’t have the excuse of not being human. I haven’t ever seen your real face, but I know it’s freaking beautiful. And you’ve been in that vessel so long that it’s almost as much you as your other form is. And he’s pretty damn easy on the eyes. As far as him being a dude... Look, Cas, you’ve seen inside my head. We don’t talk about it, but I know you know there’s things my dad put in there that I try to fight. That’s definitely one of them, but it’s not like I never- I mean, I’m okay. Really.” (And speaking of people who were awkward, well that was pretty awful.) “Heaven sucks. And if you don’t fit in with them, Cas, you’re probably doing something right. You’ve always been a part of our family. But if you wanted to work on maybe changing exactly what that means between me and you, I’m here for it.”

“What do you want, Dean?” asked Castiel, clearly still reeling from Dean’s speech.

“I don’t know, Cas.” Dean could feel himself blushing. “I mean, it seems pretty damn arrogant for a mortal dude to have a crush on an Angel of the Lord, you know?”

“Even if the Angel of the Lord feels the same?”

Then Dean was kissing him again, and this time Castiel was kissing back. His technique was awful and he didn’t know where to put his hands but his enthusiasm left Dean no room for doubt.

Of course, Sam decided to arrive back at the motel room five minutes later. Dean would have been disappointed, but the abject shrieks and string of profanity Sam unleashed was so incredibly worth it.

Once he’d gotten over his initial horrified reaction, Sam flopped back on the unoccupied bed with a slice of pie and a warm smile. “I’m going to torture you guys for this endlessly,” he declared, “but just so you both know, I’m really happy for you. It’s about time.”

“Thanks, Sammy. Hey, you okay?”

“I will be,” Sam replied honestly. “It’s just always going to hurt, you know? I’m sorry I never told you. And sorry I’ve been terrible at celebrating your birthday. You’re the best brother ever, you know?”

“Yeah, you’re not so bad yourself,” Dean joked, pretending that Sam’s words weren’t everything that he always wanted to hear.

========================================================

Dean lay in bed curled close to Castiel, who didn’t need to sleep, but was sitting beside Dean and reading. With Castiel’s hand in his hair and Sam’s words nestled in his heart, Dean decided that this year was off to a pretty amazing start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, well... that got away from me a bit. But I’m pretty proud of it. So there it is folks! Dean Winchester’s happy birthday.
> 
> Bingham’s is a real place, but it is in Kingsley, PA, not California. If you’re ever in the area, you should definitely go. The pie is awesome. ;-)
> 
> Sorry for any mistakes in this. I’ll proofread when I’m not desperately trying to get it posted on the 24th, and I’ll make the appropriate changes.


End file.
